


Crossroads

by ladyspock7



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Angst, Confessions, Eventual Smut, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-07-29 13:42:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16265393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyspock7/pseuds/ladyspock7
Summary: Set in the second season. An AU where Oswald and Jim have started to make romantic overtures to each other...then Theo Galavan kidnaps Gertrud. Oswald doesn't kill Councilwoman Caulfield, Butch gets to keep his hand, Jim and Harvey come to the rescue, Oswald and Jim get to smooch (eventually), and all is well. Or so it seems.





	Crossroads

**Author's Note:**

> Everything changed when Galavan attacked! (Sorry, couldn't resist the Avatar the Last Airbender reference.) Gertrud getting rescued is one of my favorite fix-its in Gotham fandom. Any fic where Gertrud survives automatically gets extra bonus points in my book! So naturally I wanted to write one, too, although it ended up unleashing new problems for Oswald, Jim, and company.

 

The stars shone bright out here in the country, but with no moon the pitch black of the countryside was all the creepier.

And here they were, Harvey thought sourly, standing around this God-forsaken back road, along with Jim, Oswald, and some of Oswald's goons, freezing their balls off while the Penguin, the self-proclaimed King of Gotham, tried to explain to his mother why she couldn't go home again.

Without admitting, declaring, or in any other way hinting that he was, in fact, the Penguin, the top dog of Gotham's rotten underbelly.

The cars' headlights illuminated the little drama taking place on the side of the road.

“Mother, I can't risk letting you fall into Galavan's hands again.”

“But Oswald, the police are here.” Gertrud nodded over her shoulder at Jim and Harvey.

“Yes, I know, Mother, but you have to understand that....”

“This horrible man, Galavan, has broken the law. I am not afraid of him. Or his sister, that awful woman! I will press charges."

“You can't. They won't stick, I'm telling you.”

“But that makes no sense, Oswald! Why wouldn't they stick to him? I am a witness.”

Harvey took a swig of Black Label and eyed Jim to see how he was holding up.

Jim leaned against the car, testimony to his weariness, but his eyes followed Oswald's every move. Jim had broken half a dozen laws and risked the wrath of one of the most powerful families in Gotham, all for that weasel Cobblepot.

Oswald's constant fawning and hero worship must have turned Jim's head, Harvey figured. Anyone with half a brain could see it.

When he and Jim arrived at the rendezvous, Cobblepot hugged his mother, hugged Jim for an embarrassingly long time, and damn near hugged Harvey, but checked the impulse and turned it into a hearty handshake instead.

The raw gratitude in Oswald's face was almost too much to take, but it made him more human, too, and Harvey got a glimpse of the man under the slick Penguin facade, and maybe he understood a little better why Jim had fallen for the little snitch.

Well, it was worth it to have saved that poor old woman, too, but Harvey wasn't real thrilled to have been dragged into this business. The saving grace was that the Galavans didn't know he and Jim were the instruments of Gertrud's escape.

Yet. He hoped. God, he really hoped so. The Penguin now owed Harvey a big goddamn favor, as far as Harvey was concerned.

Oswald pressed his hands together. “Trust me on this, Mother. Galavan's power and wealth, and his extensive influence with the police department are insurmountable. The cops won't believe you.”

Gertrud spun back to Jim and Harvey. “But the policemen, they got me out. they can...what is the word?” She said something in Hungarian.

Oswald shook his head, clearly fighting frustration. “Testify? No. They can't go against the entire police force, and City Hall.”

He gave Jim an exasperated look, a wordless plea for assistance.

Jim straightened up and wiped a hand over his mouth. “Mrs. Kapelput, the situation is...complicated. Maybe it would be better to discuss this indoors.”

“Yes, out of this cold wind, over a cup of tea,” Oswald said. “Please get into the car.” 

“He had me caged, Oswald! Like an animal. That is not complicated! They will make him tell them! That is their job.” She scowled at Jim. “If they can't do their jobs, what are they good for?” She made a disgusted noise. “Cannot trust police.”

Harvey supposed he ought to take offense, but he knew too many policemen.

_What the hell does she think Oswald does all day?_ Harvey wondered. He could, he thought idly, make things even more difficult for Cobblepot by injecting a few choice words into the discussion, but Harvey didn't have it in him to burst Gertrud's bubble.

Having spent the better part of the evening with her sniffling in the back seat as he and Jim drove her to the rendezvous, Harvey was inclined to be sympathetic. Something about Gertrud's anxious wide eyes made you want to soothe her with whatever notions would allow her to keep her rose-colored glasses on.

Gertrud drew herself up. “Take me home immediately,” she said, in a voice that Harvey imagined was one that had gotten results in the past. When little Ozzie refused to eat his vegetables maybe.

Among the hard-faced thugs, there was an atmosphere of shared embarrassment, and one or two of them glanced at Cobblepot with sympathy. All these lousy bastards had mothers, except for Victor Zsasz, who had, Harvey was pretty sure, sprung full-fledged from a pod.

Zsasz, tossing a folded up switchblade around in his gloved hands and watching the argument with a mild smirk, caught Harvey's eye, and winked.

Harvey flushed and looked away. Fucker. Made his skin crawl.

Reminded him that he and Jim were outnumbered on a deserted back road with a bunch of killers.

Jim was safe enough, since Cobblepot was smitten with him, but Harvey was beginning to feel it was pretty thin protection for himself, and he also remembered, with uneasiness, that he'd recently threatened to beat Cobblepot with a garbage can. Maybe he'd only been waiting for a good opportunity to take Harvey out.

Would Cobblepot do that, though? Harvey had helped rescue his mom, he'd be sure to remind the Penguin of that, if necessary.

Still, maybe one of these other goons might take it upon themselves to rub out a cop when Cobblepot's back was turned. Jim was clearly off limits, but...

Harvey was no coward, but there was such a thing as insurance, and he sidled closer to Jim, to sort of reinforce the fact he was best friends with Oswald's object of affection. “Ready to roll, partner?”

Jim shifted his weight. “We should make sure they make it to a safe place.”

Oh, well, it was worth a shot. Stubborn son of a bitch. “Still time to get out while you can, Jimbo.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. We did our good deed of the day, saved the old lady, did our duty, etcetera. Might want to rethink your involvement. Plenty of gals, not to mention guys, apparently, who'd be a hell of a lot less trouble. Christ, you haven't even boned him yet.”

Jim glared at him. “Nice, Harv. See if I ever tell you anything again.”

Harvey stepped closer and lowered his voice further. “There's gonna be a lot of trouble over this, Jim. And you know it. Being pals with the Wayne kid isn't going to be enough to protect you. The longer we're gone, the less time we have to cover our tracks. I don't know about you, but I'd like to get to work on my alibi.”

“What's Galavan going to do? Make a complaint that his kidnapping victim was stolen?”

“You can't be that naive. He won't be able to go through proper channels, this is true. It's the improper channels that have me worried.”

“He doesn't know we're the ones that found Mrs. Kapelput.”

“And how long can we count on that, Jimbo?”

The argument over yonder reached a new crescendo. “We can't stand here all night, Mother! Just get in the car. One of my men will drive us to...”

“One of your men! Your men!” Gertrud cried. “Who talks like that? What are you, a prince? Lord of the manor?”

“Try a king,” Harvey muttered. Jim elbowed him in the ribs.

“And that devil,” Gertrud said with loathing, flapping a hand at Zsasz. “Who is he? Always hanging around and you never explain. Does he sweep the floors? How much ransom?”

“Ransom?” Cobblepot said blankly.

“How much did this Galavan want?” Gertrud demanded. “If he is so rich, so powerful, as you say, what does he need your money for?”

Whoa. Harvey felt his own eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Old gal wasn't as ditzy as she looked.

Oswald's mouth opened and closed a couple of times but no sound came out.

It was painful to watch Cobblepot, usually so quick-witted and could lie as easy as breathing, standing there doing a deer in the headlights impression, unable to cope with his mother's attack of insightfulness.

Jesus, birdbrain, even I could've made up something by now. Harvey almost felt sorry for the little bastard.

Oswald's trapped gaze darted to Jim again, who grimaced helplessly.

"Answer me," Gertrud snapped. 

Oswald gulped. “I don't... I mean... well, he... Galavan's crazy, that's all there is to it.” His mouth stretched into a mad smile, desperate for his mother to understand, but it withered under Gertrud's furious expression.

Gertrud flung her hands in the air and launched into a tirade of Hungarian.

Harvey would have loved to understand half of it, as he was pretty sure he caught the name 'Maroni.'

Oswald dragged his hands down his face and hung his head under the onslaught, and he shouted, “All right, it's true! Everything he said was true!" He heaved a sigh and closed his eyes. "Galavan kidnapped you to use as leverage against me." He lifted his hands and let them fall to his sides again. "That's all I can tell you."

Gertrud stared at him with a coldness that rivalled the icy wind. Then she sniffed and adjusted the coat around her shoulders. “It's the lying, Oswald. It is so hurtful.”

Oswald crossed his arms over his chest.

She studied him a little longer with regal disdain, then sniffed again. “Very well. Have one of your men drive me to...” She waggled her fingers. “What is it. A safe house?” She almost spat the words. “Is that what criminals call it?”

Oswald straightened his shoulders and lifted his chin, carefully smoothing the lapels on his coat. “A motel," he said quietly. "And I'm proud to say I've made certain it is very safe.” He made a weary gesture.

Zsasz turned to the night and made a big circling motion with his arm.

A light on a nearby hill flickered once, then another light to the north. Harvey was taken aback. Cobblepot had his people watching the road, too. They could pick Harvey off if he cut and run.

Great way to ensure Harvey wouldn't be able to reveal which direction Cobblepot had gone.

Sticking close to Jim seemed like an even better idea. Not that he would abandon Jim here.

“Right this way, Mrs. Kapelput," Butch said, stepping forward to open the door for her.

Oswald put a hand on her arm, stopping her progress. Gertrud looked up, puzzled.

“Why are you Mrs. Kapelput?” he asked.

She blinked. “What?”

Oswald shook his head as if shaking something free. “Your parents are Kapelputs.”

Gertrud went very still. “What a thing to say, Oswald,” she said. “Of course they are.”

“So why are you _Mrs_. Kapelput?” he said. He said something else, in Hungarian this time, voice growing sharp.

Gertrud's face crumpled and her lip quivered. Oswald sighed and relented, visibly letting go of his anger and moving to pull her into a hug. He murmured to her and she nodded, sniffling into his shoulder.

Butch rolled his eyes and wandered off, swearing under his breath, his trajectory carrying him over to where the detectives waited. He glanced around, then seemed to decide a little camaraderie was safe enough, though he kept his voice low to keep from being overheard. “Just when I thought we could get the fuck going already.”

“Tell me about it,” Harvey said, relaxing just a little. Couldn't trust any of these bastards, but yeah, a little camaraderie might make a difference. Soldiers in the trenches and all that crap. “Freezing my nuts off.”

“So whaddaya think?” Butch tilted his head at Oswald, holding his mother while she sobbed. “Some kind of family arrangement back in the old country?”

Harvey grinned. “Would explain a few things, huh?”

Butch snorted, then glanced guiltily at his boss.

“We don't know that,” Jim snapped. “Have a little sympathy. Maybe you shouldn't jump to conclusions.”

“Why not? It's more fun.” Harvey said cheerfully.

“So you noticed?” Butch addressed Harvey. “You know. About the Penguin and Gordon here.”

“Are you kidding? Every time they're in the same room big red hearts pop up over their heads.”

“Jesus, Harv, I'm standing right here.”

“Relax, Gordon,” Butch said, and actually clapped him on the shoulder. “It's cute.”

Oswald was helping his mother into the back seat. “Let's go,” he shouted.

At once everyone was moving into the cars. Jim stepped close to Oswald, putting his arm around his back and murmuring something into his ear. Oswald blinked rapidly, his mobile face working through some emotion before he heaved a shuddering sigh and nodded. He seized Jim's shoulders in a fierce hug. Jim hugged  him back and pressed a kiss to his temple, startling a wide-eyed look from the other man along with a tiny smile. Oswald ducked his head and climbed into the car with his mother.

Harvey and Jim got into their own vehicle. It would be a great time to hoof it back to Gotham, by another, safer route, of course, and Harvey said so. Best to cut the ties.

But Jim wouldn't hear of it, and Harvey eased the car onto the asphalt to follow the gangsters' taillights down the road.

 

 


End file.
